Are You THAT Parent???

The Today Show was playing on my television set, as usual, while I made my bed this morning.  Also as usual, I paid only a bit of attention to it, here and there, as I was starting my day.  I turned to watch it when I heard Matt Lauer announce a segment about parents obsessing over their kids’ happiness.  This piqued my interest since I have kids and, of course, want them to be happy.  One of the guests was Lori Gottlieb, author of a very provocative article in The Atlantic entitled. “How to Land Your Kid in Therapy.”  

In a nutshell, Gottlieb suggests that “by protecting our children from unhappiness as kids, we are depriving them of happiness as adults.”  An interesting premise, indeed.  Gottlieb presents an interesting argument, backed with logical and convincing support.  This got me thinking.... am I THAT parent? 

You know the kind I’m talking about, the parent who constantly praises their kid - even for the most ridiculous things (“I love the way you’re holding that book”), the one who signs their kid up for EVERY activity your school and/or community offer - regardless of the kid’s interest or ability, the one who defends their eight year old to the teacher who reports a fairly benign classroom incident, and states, “It seems to me that you just don’t like my son/daughter.”  This is the same parent who repeatedly “helps” their kid with important school projects (translation: completes the assignment for them), which can be confirmed by said kid bragging about such to classmates.  This boggles my mind.  Why do parents do this?  It just seems so crazy to me.  Do parents really want to save their kids from the unhappiness that would occur from failing? Or, do parents see their kids for as extensions of themselves and   are, therefore, unable to admit the faults of their kids because to do so would mean that they themselves are flawed? And, consequently, to have their kids experience unhappiness and disappointment results in their own unhappiness and disappointment.

immediately I thought of Janet Chiauzzi, the mother from Long Island who was recently arrested on stalking charges for threatening the coach of her son’s Little League team (and his wife and daughter) when her son failed to make the travel team.  Was she going WAY overboard in trying to prevent her eleven year old son from a little disappointment and unhappiness?  Could she be a mother with the best of intentions for her son, but clearly with a misguided sense of appropriate behavior? Or is she maybe she is just unable to admit that her son is not that good at baseball because to do so would be to admit that she herself is flawed in some way.  Clearly she’ll get no argument there.

As a high school English teacher I can confirm that most kids are not receptive to constructive criticism.  Many panic and “freak out” if their grade is not above a 90 on any assignment.  They complain that they don’t understand why they received the grade assigned, even when it is laid out for them in a grading rubric.  But the reaction of the parents is often worse than that of the student.  In fact, in my first year teaching, I had a student who was, shall we say, less than stellar.  She performed well when she put forth the effort, which was about 50% of the time.  Her mother “blew a gasket” when the grades coming home were less than she expected.  At parent-teacher conference night she confronted me, asking that I explain my grading process.  I pulled out several of her daughter’s pop quizzes.  These quizzes were designed to check if the student was completing the required reading assignments in that they asked only basic plot questions - no analysis.  Her daughter routinely scored a 1 out 5 on these quizzes.  This was meaningless to mom.  She insisted that her daughter was reading.  This mother was so upset with her daughter’s progress in my class that she call my assistant principal almost daily to complain about me.  I threw my hands in the air, baffled.

My very favorite story about a parent’s misguided defense of their kid comes from a retired college professor.  This professor assigned a research term paper to her freshman class.  Since this was back before the proliferation of the home computer and the internet (late 1980’s), she handed out a completed paper for the students to use as a sample of what she was looking for.  One of her students actually submitted THE SAME EXACT PAPER, retyped, as their own.  When the professor assigned a failing grade to the assignment, the student’s father called the professor to complain. The professor explained the situation (the fact that the student had copied the paper the professor handed out - CHEATED), Dad simply argued that he felt his son had gotten enough out of the assignment simply by reading and retyping the paper.  I kid you not, as the professor in this case is my mother.

I like to think that I’m not this kind of parent.  Sure, I tell my kids they do a good job when they tie their shoes, but only when they are first learning to tie them, not when they’re in high school.  Do I run to my kids when they fall? Of course I do.  I’m human.  However, I am well aware of what my kids are good at and what they’re not.  I don’t force activities that I prefer just because I like them.  I also don’t condone quitting midway through.  Case in point: when my daughter decided halfway through basketball season that she no longer enjoyed playing, she played through the end of the season, as her step-father and I reminded her that she made a commitment to the team and needed to to honor it.  We discussed it.  And to us, that is really the most important part.  We didn’t “make” her continue with basketball per say.  We did “strongly suggest” it, and we explained why.  She told us what she was upset and concerned about.  We discussed ways to deal with those feelings (not avoid them).  She understood why we felt it was important to honor her commitment and agreed.  The rest, as they say, is history.  

A wise friend once told me that it’s okay to feel a feeling; and just because you feel it doesn’t mean that you become it.  You may feel like a disappointment to your parents (and yourself), but that doesn’t make you an actual disappointment.  The feeling will pass, you will survive, and the world will not end.

Golden Girls Wisdom

This father's day made me think of these quotes from the Golden Girls, both uttered by the late Bea Arthur as Dorothy Zbornak:

"Being a mother isn't easy.  If it were, father's would do it."

"That's what fathers do.....they yell and they barbecue.  That's what separates them from the apes." 

Happy Father's Day to all!

My (Failed) Clutter Experiment

I’ll admit it, I have a clutter problem - i HATE clutter.  But here’s the problem: I have a husband and three kids.  My youngest is just 16 months, so she gets a “pass” on being part of the problem.  Hubby and the older two, well there’s no nice way to say this, they are SLOBS.  The result is we are all often miserable.  Them, because I am constantly on them to pick up AND put away their belongings.  Me, because I am constantly running around my house picking up after everyone else, which is frustrating and time-consuming.

Why am I so obsessed with clutter? A few reasons.  First, I hate the way it looks.  As soon as a guest walks into my house, I begin to see my home through their eyes.  Piles of papers that seemed to blend into the background before, suddenly become a major focal point - and source of embarrassment for me. I like to see clean surfaces.  Second, clutter-free surfaces make me feel good.  A clear kitchen counter actually makes me happy.  It says “come be creative here,” or “why don’t you make an amazing meal for you family here,” to me. It’s inviting, it calls me to use it.  When my counter is covered with “crap,” it says, “don’t bother - just order in,” to me.  Third, clutter makes me feel stressed out.  It’s like a looming “to do” list.  Seeing piles of stuff everywhere reminds me of everything I have to do (like pay bills).  Finally, I learned that everything that I innately feel about clutter has roots in Feng Shui.

I found a simple definition for feng shui on about.com’s “Feng Shui 101” page: “an ancient art and science developed over 3,000 years ago in China.  It is a complex body of knowledge that reveals how to balance the energies of any given space to assure the health and good fortune of people inhabiting it.”  My husband is of the opinion that this is all BS, but I feel differently.  

About two years ago I enlisted the help of a professional Feng Shui consultant - Ann Bingley Gallops of Open Spaces Feng Shui.  Ann revealed to me that there is good reason for me to be so stressed out by clutter.  Clutter can make you feel stuck because it prevents the flow of “chi,” or energy. Together, Ann and I went over my space (home) in detail and discussed some of the nuances of Feng Shui and how they applied to my home and life.  Clearing clutter was a critical part of her suggestions, and not just paper clutter.  For example, in the soffit above my kitchen cabinets I had an extensive collection of wicker baskets.  Ann suggest I remove them.  Since they are made of wood they are easily burned by the fire element that is so strong in a kitchen.  I did remove them and the space instantly felt “lighter.”  Other suggestions Ann made included wall color selections (reds in our “fame and reputation area), removing books from the master bedroom (too much stimulation for what is supposed to be a serene and intimate sanctuary), and ways to disguise a staircase that runs through the center of the house (affects the health and finances of the family).

Anyway, clutter is a never-ending battle when you have kids (and a husband).  I am the one who constantly runs around picking up after everyone, trying to keep the clutter in check.  So as an experiment, I decided to stop picking up after everyone else, with the exception of the baby.  For three days, I picked up only my own things and those of the little munchkin and let everyone else’s clutter accumulate.  This was no small task.  It took every ounce of strength I had to fight the urge to “tidy up.”  My kitchen countertops became inundated with papers - school stuff, mail, junk.  I often had to leave the room in order to regain my composure and prevent myself from hyperventilating.  

After three days, I declared my experiment a complete and total failure.  Why? Because NO ONE noticed that I had stopped cleaning up.  Not one member of my household commented that things were looking out of control.  No one even tried to pick up their accumulated junk to get it out of the way.  72 hours was my maximum threshold for clutter accumulation - and probably also for my elevated blood pressure.  When I announced to my family that I had been conducting this experiment they looked at me, puzzled.  My eleven year old said, “Well, now I have room to do my homework in the kitchen again.”  Gee, thanks.....

Who's More Foolish.....

.....the fool, or the fool who follows him?  This is one of my favorite movie quotes. In Star Wars: Episode IV, Han Solo calls Obi-wan Kenobi a “damn fool” and Obi-wan retorts with the quote, above.  This quote came to mind when I was thinking about this blog post simply because I am not sure which one I am - the fool or the fool who follows him.  The “him” in this case is Gary, of Gary’s Gutter Service in Congers, NY.

How did I come to know of Gary?  Here’s the first cable television commercial I saw:

My husband and I were hooked when we saw this.  First, we couldn’t help but notice the “homage” this spot gives to the sitcom Fresh Prince of Bel Air.  Gary uses a similar font and similar style of rap.  Second, while we both literally “lol”ed, we also felt embarrassed for him, and as my daughter was quick to point out, his kids (if he has any).  Who came up with this “theme” for the commercial?  Probably the same guy who came up with this one:

What’s with the sitcom theme, Gary???

I wonder what the statistics are on new customer generation from these types of ads.  I can tell you that my HVAC contractor here on Staten Island had a commercial on cable (no singing or dancing - very respectable) and his secretary told me that they did not get a single new customer from it.  She said that many established customers called to say they saw it and how much they liked it, but no new customers. Maybe they would have gotten new customers if they followed Gary's lead.

These commercials remind me of the reason I watch American Idol: to see people make fools of themselves.  I rarely watch Idol to the end of the season.  I only enjoy watching the embarrassing lack of talent slowly eating up their fifteen minutes of fame.  I'm just wondering, though, what possesses people to do such things?  Is Gary's BFF sitting at his computer, watching these commercials and saying "Dude, these are awesome!  You are gonna get a ton of business from this!"  If so, Gary, you need to find different friends!  Maybe Gary is a guy with a sense of humor, the kinda guy who doesn't mind making a fool of himself.  Maybe he made these commercials DESPITE his wife and kids and BFF begging him not to expose them like that on television.  If so, then more power to you Gary! But either way, please keep these gems coming!

Forty IS Fabulous

There, I've said it.  I'm the big 4 - 0.  Yesterday was my fortieth birthday.  And I truly could not be happier.  I could be coy, and lie (maybe a little bit more each year) about my age, but that is not my truth.  The truth is, no matter how you slice it, whether you use "old math" or "new math," I am forty years old.

In having attained forty years, I have experienced my fair share of triumphs and tragedies.  But all that I have lived through has been the greatest learning experience.  Looking back on my twenties, I realize that I didn't know much at all about life - but I was a quick learner.  By the time I was thirty, I was certain that I had it all figured out.  But thirty-one through thirty-nine taught me that I had only reached the tip of the proverbial iceberg.  I can tell you, beyond the shadow of a doubt, now that I have reached forty, there is still plenty more to learn, to live, and to experience.  

According to the CDC, the average life expectancy for women in the US is just under 78 years of age - which means I'm more than half way there!  As I am now aware of the fact that there are more days behind than there are ahead, it is near impossible not to reflect back on my life.  Scanning through both major and minor events, I cannot help but think, "Has my life meant anything thus far?"  The following poem (often attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson, though some speculate that to be incorrect) has helped me to answer that question:

What Is Success?

To laugh often and much;
To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty;
To find the best in others;
To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;
To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived,
This is to have succeeded.

At forty, I can declare myself a success based on Emerson's criteria.  Can you?

What Is Your Truth?

I have started and stopped writing this post for the past four days.  At first, I wanted to write about accepting ourselves for who we are.  I planned to use my father as a prime example.  His hearing is not what it used to be.  In fact, it’s not even half as good as it used to be.  It has become so poor that he actually convinced my mother to celebrate Mother’s Day a week later this year so that when we had our usual dinner out in a restaurant, it would not be as loud and busy.  This actually backfired on Dad, as May is also communion “season,” and the restaurant we ate at had two parties running concurrently.  I planned to call that post “What Interferes With Your Quality of Life?”

Then, I was distracted by a custody battle a friend is currently going through.  This got me thinking even more about the concept of  “quality of life.”  I began to contemplate  how one goes about proving to a judge that one parent can provide a better quality of life for a child than the other parent can.  This can be a very sad situation, since essentially you participate in character annihilation of a person who you, presumably, once loved - or at least you thought you did.  So now you have to confront the choices you’ve made, and perhaps your lack of ability when it comes to such choices.  You do this, of course, to the mother/father of a child you adore and have to come to terms with the idea of hating this person, yet at the same time, putting on a happy face for the child or children involved.  Very few people can accomplish this.  Most of the time, the kids (depending on their ages) can tell you EXACTLY what caused the rift between their parents, and what each parent has said about the other  - both directly to them and to other adults when they thought the kids weren’t listening.  I was going to call that post, “How Do You Measure Your Quality of Life?”

Finally, I watched Oprah’s two part interview with author James Frey.  You’ll recall  that he is the author who was “disgraced” when it was revealed that his book, A Million Little Pieces was actually not the no-holds-barred memoir that it was published as, and was, in fact, a novel “based on” his own personal experiences but with many embellished details.  Many felt that this left Oprah with egg on her face, as she had chosen the book as one of her very popular “Oprah’s Book Club” selections.  The show featured clips of the original show, where Oprah had Frey on to discuss his memoir, as well as clips from the follow up show where Frey was taken to task for duping the American public.  Following Frey’s admission, subsequent copies of the book were printed with a “note to the reader” from Frey in which he clarifies the nature of the story he had written.  This got me thinking about the concept of  “truth” and managed to pull all of my ideas together.  

The Merriam-Webster online dictionary defines truth as “sincerity in action, character, and utterance; the state of being the case.”  In the case of James Frey, it can be argued that his book was NOT “the case.”  It can also be argued, however, that there was sincerity in its intention.  Frey explains in the “note” that the work is a “subjective truth, altered by the mind of a recovering drug addict and alcoholic.  Ultimately, it’s a story, and one that I could not have written without having lived the life I’ve lived.”

isn’t our entire existence on this planet part of our own subjective truth?  Ask three witnesses to a crime to describe the incident and you will probably end up with three different versions of the same story.  Since we constantly see life through the lens of our own life experiences, our position cannot be anything but subjective.  So my Dad’s creation of fake holidays helps him maintain his truth - that there is nothing wrong with his hearing.  Anyone involved in a custody battle is able to maintain their truth of being the “better parent,” even if it means picking apart the character of their former partner and manipulating details, because getting custody of the kids is what is important.  And Frey is able to maintain his truth, that while his book is not a 100% factual account of his experience, it is the reality of his addiction (as he told Larry King) and the message of the story is what is truly important.

We all play this game.  We tell ourselves: taking something from a retail store is not stealing when the cashier failed to ring it up properly at the register, adjusting the number of your age or weight is not lying when you look younger or thinner than the actual number reveals.  This is our truth, as we see it.  So think about it,  what “subjective truths” do you tell yourself? 

Pregnant in Heels

I happened to catch a re-run of the premiere episode of Bravo TV’s Pregnant in Heels the other day.  I had seen commercials for the show but didn’t think I would be interested.  I tend to watch shows like that when I’m in “that mode” only.  When planning my wedding, I was obsessed with WE TV’s Bridezillas.  But on the recommendation of a friend, I tuned in.  I was pleasantly surprised, though initially horrified.....

My initial horror was surrounding Rosie’s first clients, Sarah and Jon.  My jaw hit the floor when Sarah, four weeks from her due date, revealed that she and her hubby thought of their baby, from conception, as a “life force sucking parasite.”  Ummm, what????  Why exactly are these people having a baby???  When Rosie questions the parents about their parenting style, Jon says, “When I was a kid, in the ’70’s, it was made very clear that I was not the center of the universe.  I was along for the ride.”  Sarah chimes in with, “The world doesn’t revolve around them.”  My horror slowly turned to disgust and then repugnance.  I also was a kid in the ‘70’s and my parents did indeed make me the center of their universe.  Mind you, I consider my parents to be “middle of the road” in parenting styles.  They weren’t the type to let me curse as a toddler (in order to be able to fully express myself), but they also weren’t the type to make me sit at the dinner table until all the food on my plate was consumed. (Side note: there was a single incident involving pancake syrup, but I’ll blog about that another time).

There was a bit of a reprieve when in a “confessional shot,” Rosie tells us that, “Actually, that’s exactly what a baby should be - the center of your universe.”  I felt a glimmer of hope - at least not everyone on this show was crazy - but it was short lived.  Sarah revealed that she didn’t talk to her belly, that the baby is “just there.,” and that she thinks its ridiculous for people to think that she should be completely bonded with the baby just because she is pregnant.  Seriously???  I think most women bond with their babies from the moment they find out they’re pregnant.  I know I did, and so did all of my friends.  

So back to my original thought - why are these two people having a baby??? Clearly, they do not want one.  They have ZERO prep done for the baby’s arrival.  Remember, the baby was due in only 4 weeks when Rosie arrived and they had yet to purchase a stitch of clothing, a stroller, not even a car seat to bring this baby home from the hospital in.  Before you start emailing me about people who are superstitious about bringing things into the house, know that I am one of those people.  I did not have a baby shower for that reason.  But there are ways to plan ahead without having to bring stuff into your home.  Most baby furniture stores, especially the ones these Madison Ave Moms shop at, will gladly order and hold your furniture, etc, until you call and say you want it delivered.  I personally kept all the clothes I bought at my moms.  But, I digress..... This couple couldn’t have been more disconnected from their baby if they tried.  They didn’t speak with excitement about his impending arrival.  Instead, there seemed to be a feeling of dread in the air whenever they spoke of it.  But here is where the GENIUS of Rosie Pope happens.  She shows up at their apartment WITH A THERAPIST.  That’s right, a therapist.  One cute, young Dr. Ryan, looking a lot like Doogie Howser, swoops in and after ignoring the death glares of the couple facilitates a breakthrough.  Rosie tells the couple to their faces that they seem to have “whacked ideas” about babies and parenting and that they seem to have used their superior intellect to come up with good reasons why they have put off being prepared.  Dr. Ryan asks a few questions and then immediately diagnoses Sarah as having “experiential avoidance.”  This is where in order to avoid feeling anxious about something, you simply avoid thinking about it at all.  Sarah had what I like to call an “Oprah Winfrey lightbulb moment” and a happy ending was the result. Baby Fox (follow-up post on names coming soon) arrives and Sarah and Jon actually seem happy about it.  

God bless you, Rosie Pope, for having the patience and resources to deal with these people.  Their crazy ideas would have been such a turn-off to me that I don’t think I could have worked with them. True, I was scared, too,  when I was pregnant for the first time, but I talked about it.  I read books about birth, and babies, and parenting.  I asked my mother and aunts and friends questions.  That’s how most people prepare themselves.  Since I am not an avoider, I can’t relate to Sarah.  I immediately felt that she and her husband were callous and thoughtless.  Turns out they were just scared.  I just hope little Fox NEVER gets to see your show.